Is you
by kes2
Summary: The Christmas Ball is tonight. Hermione is excited, but for all the wrong reasons. How can she not see love when it's staring her in the face? But then again, she is a Gryffindor. Basically Christmas fluff, obviously nonDH compliant. Enjoy!


…Is you.

Disclaimer: All the toys belong to JKR, but I just want to play with them. I promise to put them back in the toy box when I'm done, relatively unharmed.

A/N: This is a one-shot for Christmas as I attempt to sort out my other stories/essays that I should be doing for university. Merry Christmas everyone!

Tonight was the night of the Christmas Ball and in Albus Dumbeldore's infinite wisdom, attendance for staff was mandatory.

How a portrait had _that _much authority, she didn't want to know. But Hermione didn't mind; she quite enjoyed them, especially now that she was above the age that required a 'date'. She hadn't been on one of those in what seemed like years (it really was…) but she enjoyed getting dressed up once in a while.

In an attempt to get into the Christmas spirit, Hermione had purchased a small tree for her apartment above the hospital wing, having already decorated the one within the ward. As a joke, Aberforth – who had taken to selling dodgy trees on the side – stuck in a sprig of mistletoe and a wink, free of charge.

Laughing to herself at the memory, Hermione stuck the mistletoe in the doorway to her apartment and started to charm the place red and green, deciding to worry about what to wear later.

Hermione Granger had been working at Hogwarts School for almost ten years. Fresh out of her training at St. Mungo's – at least _she_ had put her third of that Hero Complex to good use – she had taken over from Madam Pomfrey. Only this Madam was a fully qualified Healer. Why she had chosen the mundane school life over that of the surely more exciting life-saving career at the Wizarding hospital had been anyone's guess, but if she wanted to kiss bruised knees better for a living, what business was it of anyone else's?

She had enjoyed her five year intensive training and apprenticeship at St Mungo's, there was no doubt about it. What she hadn't enjoyed though was the student accommodation with rowdy drunken – mostly pureblood – students from all over the Wizarding world who thought that to get 'Healer' attached to their name required having bedded Madam Rosmerta, regardless of sexual orientation.

Now, at thirty-four years of age, Hermione looked better than she ever had before. Silently thankful that she had 'blossomed' (as Molly had tactfully put it) late in life, Hermione was filled with a quiet confidence. Her hair was still as bushy as ever; and still up for a debate whenever a worthy opponent could be found.

Harry and Ron had moved on with their lives, but Hermione had never really left Hogwarts. She felt safe there, everyone knew her name. After the war, she had decided to go by what was friendly.

She had mellowed out somewhat over the years; the ever-present hand in the air hadn't been there for quite some time. The turning point had been when her former Potions professor had requested that she called him 'Severus'.

The other teachers had, of course, asked this of her as soon as she began in the hospital wing. Severus Snape, stubborn man that he was, had kept things decidedly more formal. It had taken him almost two years into her time as Healer to ask it of her.

"But really Professor Snape, how can you still think that asphodel should be used instead of bezoar shavings, when there is now so much modern evidence to the contrary?" Hermione sat in the staff room, sitting on one leg, slightly bouncing up and down in a mixture of annoyance and excitement. She shook a stray strand of hair out of her eyes.

"_Because_ Miss Granger, the 'modern evidence' you speak of has not been verified. Yes, it was in a few journals, but they may as well have been in the Quibbler for all the notice that will be taken of them. Such ideas need to be extensively tested by potions experts… such as myself… before anyone will consider changing the syllabus." He arched an eyebrow in her general direction, taking silent delight in the indignation which had spread across her features.

She silently huffed in annoyance at him, but also relishing the task of changing his mind. She took a sip of her tea. She never had as yet, mind you, but there was a first time for everything. Severus Snape was an infuriating man, who never backed down and rarely changed his beliefs, especially when they came from the know-it-all former student sitting before him.

The argument carried on for a few more minutes, when Hermione stifled a particularly big yawn. Snape decided to take this as his cue to leave. Although outwardly he had not given any appearance of enjoyment, the fact that he had not stormed off or shut in on himself was a major achievement and was a sign of what could almost be called pleasure.

Hermione had long since given up on the idea of ever being seen as an equal in his eyes, settling instead for sparring partner. Tonight, however, she must admit defeat; she was far too tired to continue.

He quirked an eyebrow at her unladylike yawning and rose from his chair, downing the last of his small tipple of fire whiskey. Muttering something about needing to get up in the morning, he bid her good night.

"Good night Professor Snape" She called out to his retreating back, gathering her books and pen from the table next to her.

She felt it in the air. He suddenly tensed, as though fighting back a whim, and saw his shoulders slump ever so slightly in resignation. "…Severus…"

It was almost a whisper.

That had been several years ago, and in the time between that moment and this, very little had actually changed. They still argued almost constantly. True, it was about academic matters, but that was not the point.

Hermione looked up from the elderly box of Christmas decorations her parents had sent to her several years before, thinking about Severus Snape. Clutching the tinsel, she grinned slightly to herself. He _was_ infuriating, yes, but at least he was…_different_.

Minerva had told Hermione to give up, he was a lost cause that only Albus could have dealt with, but Hermione refused to budge. There was a good man in there…somewhere.

She had even managed to convince him to teach medicinal potions to fourth years, rather than waiting for the NEWTS.

In retrospect, this was when Hermione's suspicions should have arisen.

Once again they were in the staff room, once again alone. Everyone else was at the staff meeting, held in Minerva's office for the sake of being official. Embarrassingly, Hermione Granger and Severus Snape had been thrown out. For arguing. Minerva refused to have "such drivel in the minutes".

Having opened the door with a satisfyingly dramatic bang, Snape now stood by the window furthest from the door. Apparently, glass is hypnotic.

Hermione had gone to get herself a glass of water from the water stand to calm herself down.

Looking at his annoyed back, she decided to give him a minute. Sitting down in one of the chairs that was older than the two of them combined, she circled her finger around the rim of her glass.

She practically felt his eyes roll in annoyance.

"You're an infuriating woman, you know" His back was still to her but he actually spoke quite calmly.

"Do you mean about the glass, or what happened in there?" She asked, not actually stopping what she was doing.

Did he growl?

He spun around and stalked the distance between the window and her chair in under two steps. He seemed to stop himself at that point, content with just gripping the wing of her chair until his knuckles were beyond white. Needless to say, he was tense.

Completely unfazed, she looked up at him expectantly. She had seen this method before and, really, she wasn't a child. "I don't know what to say, Severus. I simply disagree with you. Children need to be taught how to look after themselves. Yes, preventative measures are necessary, but what if things go wrong? What if they _can't_ get to St. Mungo's? They're not going to be at Hogwarts forever -"

"Like you, you mean?" He added in spitefully, pushing away from the chair and thudding into his own opposite her.

She looked as though she had been slapped in the face and he instantly regretted saying it. She didn't let him speak, however. "I give up." She said. The resignation in her voice alarmed him slightly, but he would be damned if he'd let it show.

"Give up?" He asked, feigning indifference.

Her hand shook slightly as she put down her glass and stood up. "I have tried for many years to be friendly to you. It took you _years_ to allow me to use your given name. Now here we are a year later. I have tried to respect you, always, and you do not have the decency to reciprocate even that." She looked at him then, right in the eye. The disgust he saw everywhere else, but never wished to see in her eyes was there, staring at him. "Frankly, I don't even know why I bother."

And with that she walked out.

As she walked, quite calmly she thought, down the hall she heard footsteps hurrying towards her. Turning around Hermione saw a sight she never thought she would live to see. Severus Snape hurrying to meet her. He didn't _hurry_, exactly, that would imply that he cared. It was more of an 'I hope I don't miss the trailers' walk when you're buying popcorn at the cinema.

"Miss Granger."

She arched an eyebrow as he stopped in front of her. It had always annoyed her, that 'miss'. Why not 'Healer', if you're going to be formal? "What?" Hermione folded her arms and it took all her strength of will not to tap her foot.

"You are right…" He inhaled deeply. "Students should look at rudimentary medicinal potions prior to their NEWTS, especially considering that not many go further than OWLS. I shall endeavour to change my teaching plans over the summer."

Needless to say, Hermione was flabbergasted. For Snape that was an apology. But she couldn't let him see that being the first person he had apologised to affected her in any way. He looked her in the eye, as steely as ever. Apparently seeing whatever it was he wanted to see, he nodded to her politely and walked back to the meeting.

As childishly as they had both behaved at the time, with the benefit of hindsight Hermione saw the funny side. Yes, his remarks had been hurtful, but he wouldn't be Snape if he didn't do things like that.

She twirled the tinsel around her tiny tree and watched as a now elderly Crookshanks (thank goodness for the Kneazle blood) sniffed the tree. Deciding it was not a threat he walked away, flicking his tail at it as he did so.

"Aww, Crooks, I remember when you used to throw yourself into the boxes and mew at me to get you out! You'd pat the baubles about everywhere…" She stroked him absently as he gingerly jumped onto the bed. Looking wistfully at her cat, Hermione was glad that he had chosen to stay in her apartment recently. It had been a while since Crookshanks had bothered meandering down to the kitchens in search of food. Truth be told, Hermione thought Crookshanks might be slightly wary of a certain someone who lived near there. She shuddered at the memory of When Severus Met Crookshanks.

"Crooks! Crooks! Where the hell are you?" Hermione whispered as loudly as she dared. Walking frantically down the corridor which was disturbingly close to the apartment of the Potions Professor, Hermione was mindful of her step.

It was gone midnight, with all students – hopefully – in bed, and a now thirty-year old woman was tiptoeing around like a lovesick student hoping to not get caught.

That was, of course, partly true.

She didn't want to get caught.

They'd had one of their rows again. Something about the usefulness of picking bluebells during moonlight and possible counteraction by rain. Hermione said rain didn't affect it, and so naturally Severus Snape disagreed. She was at the point now where she was almost certain he disagreed with her just…for something to do.

Anyway, the discussion had become a little bit…heated…and it ended with Hermione glaring at Severus in a way which reminded him only too much of Minerva after he called her "bolshy"

Bolshy! The cheek of the man! Hermione's eyes glared in the dark in spite of themselves. Her cheeks turned slightly pink in embarrassment at the possibility that he may be right.

Shaking sense into herself, Hermione lowered her wand as she looked on the floor for her elusive cat. Normally, she would just let him get on with it, but he had to have his medicine. As much fun as attempting to catch him in a bath towel prior to sedation was, she didn't want to do it in the morning.

"Crookshanks, you naughty boy! Get back here!" She called out as she thought she saw a streak of ginger in a doorway. Whatever it was, it hadn't been Crookshanks.

Hermione searched a little longer before giving it up and deciding to call into the staffroom on the way home in case he was by the fire.

She was to be as quiet as possible in the hopes of capturing him – she really didn't want to petrify him _again_, it seemed so inhumane – she opened the door to the staffroom quietly.

Hermione could hear someone talking quietly, the fire was going and – yes! – she heard purring. Not wanting to disturb too much, she noted the half empty bottle of fire whiskey and tutted to herself – yes it was half term but that was no excuse. She rounded the chairs and found her cat. In the lap of the man she had spent a good hour arguing with earlier in the day.

But despite her best intentions, she couldn't find it in herself to be angry at him. He seemed to be muttering in his sleep and absently stroking her cat. Silently she admitted to herself that he looked quite…sweet…without the smirk permanently attached to his face. Deciding that she was going to have to brave it in the morning with respect to medicating her cat, she conjured a blanket from her room, carefully draped it over them and let them sleep.

As she left the staff room she thought she heard him say "'Night…Hermione…" but she could have been mistaken.

_Bless him _she thought to herself. He had looked quite sweet. It was four years ago and she still remembered the ever so slight pink tinge on his cheeks the next morning when she let slip the "I hope you slept well" comment. Hermione laughed. Now she thought about it, she should be getting ready. Glancing up at the clock Hermione realised the time and jumped up with a start. She rose from the floor and looked at the circle of useless decorations she had created around herself. Finding her wand from the masses of curls that was her hair she banished them all and threw herself into the shower.

She heard someone at the door of her apartment and yelled that they could come in, then explained that she was in the shower. Not hearing a response, Hermione assumed they had just sat down or gone away.

Five minutes later she came out in her dressing gown with a towel wrapped around her heard, only just managing to stifle the surprise of seeing Severus on her couch. She smiled at him in what she hoped was a welcoming yet reserved manner.

"Hello, Severus. What can I do for you?"

He turned around in the chair to see her and Hermione noticed his eyes bulge out ever so slightly. "I apologise…Hermione…I thought you would be ready by now. I shall come back later." He rose from the chair and turned towards the door. His hand was on the doorknob by the time Hermione had cottoned on to what was going on.

Placing a hand on his shoulder, she stopped him. "What's wrong?" She asked. She felt Severus tense under the pressure of her hand and mentally berated herself. He doesn't like to be touched! How many steps back had their rapport gone now?

Flinching her hand away, Hermione also took a small step back for good measure. Looking up at him, she raised her eyebrows questioningly to continue.

"I merely wished to ascertain whether or not you were coming to the ball tonight. I have been…asked…to chaperone, and was hoping I was not alone in being roped into attending."

If she had been paying proper attention rather than measuring the distance between them, Hermione would have noticed that he could not make eye contact with her.

"Oh!" She said, surprised. "Yes, I was just getting ready when you called-"

"I was not aware we had to er…'dress up', as it were." Severus interrupted, already looking sour at the mere prospect.

"No, we don't really." Now it was Hermione's chance to blush. "I just thought it would be nice. Christmas Spirit and all that."

He arched an eyebrow at her, apparently amused. "Indeed. Anyway, I suppose I shall leave you to prepare. I shall see you later." He bowed slightly and turned around, hesitating slightly when he saw the mistletoe. Apparently thinking better of it he opened the door and left.

Hermione was now trying to find her bag to go with her dress. She had five minutes before she had to be at the Main Hall before the Ball started. Staff had to be there prior to pupils, obviously.

On the coffee table was a small present for Severus. She couldn't decide whether or not to take it with her. Having given up on introducing the concept of a 'secret santa' to the Wizarding world, Hermione had not given presents for the last few years, but she had seen this in Diagon Alley a few weeks ago and could not resist.

Just as she found her bag and wondered why she was taking it since she lived in the castle anyway, there was a knock at the door. Puzzled, Hermione walked to it and opened the door.

Outside was an incredibly smart-looking Severus Snape.

Hermione gaped at him for a second before he spoke. "Are you ready? I thought I would escort you to the Hall." He held out his arm for her to take.

Gathering her wits, she explained that she wasn't quite ready, so instead let him in whilst wondering where _this_ Severus came from.

"You'll have to excuse the mess" she said, pushing aside the one book that was on the chair so that Severus could sit down. "I'll only be a minute." Severus nodded silently, apparently not trusting himself to speak.

Hermione disappeared into another room and Severus was left alone. He felt sick. He had no clue what the hell he was doing here, with the woman with whom he argued constantly. Their bickering annoyed him, infuriated him, angered him, attracted him. Yes, it did. He was sure there was something wrong with him, but it was true.

It had taken him ten years to finally accept what his brain was attempting to tell him; he found Hermione Granger attractive. He enjoyed her company, enjoyed their arguments. He loved it when she would get so animated that she would shift in her seat so she'd be sitting on one leg, as though to be higher than him – although that would never happen – and then get so excited that she would bounce up and down slightly. He loved that he could do that to her.

Now all he had to do was tell her.

But what if she didn't feel the same way? Oh God, he would have to move. He would die of embarrassment. Yes, he had taken on Voldemort and lived, but this is _love_ we're talking about!

He had resolved to tell her today. He had visited her the other day with the news that he had completed the batch of hangover cure potion (it's the season to be jolly, after all) and seen her hair covered inexplicably with stray bits of tinsel and cat hair, with odd baubles planted around her and some mince pie crumbs upon her person and he honestly thought she looked lovely.

It sickened him, to tell the truth. Such saccharine sentiment would surely vanish once he'd told her. It was because it was all bunched up inside him trying to get out. Once it was out in the open he could be more realistic.

Suddenly she was in front of him, smiling shyly – she was wondering why he was dressed up, but he was an old-fashioned boy at heart – and saying she was ready to go. Hermione led him to the door and it was when his hand touched the door knob that he suddenly remembered the mistletoe.

Severus turned around and looked at her. Really looked at her. She looked up at him questioningly and after a couple of seconds he found his voice again.

"Hermione…I just wanted to say that you look beautiful." He had a second to enjoy the blush that spread across her cheeks before realising that _this _was the moment. If he didn't do it now it might take another ten bloody years.

He looked up at the mistletoe again, this time so that she would notice, and then kissed her chastely on the lips. He stood upright again and opened the door. Finally he managed to look down and saw that Hermione was smiling at him. He offered her his arm, and off they went to the Christmas Ball.

Staff attendance was mandatory, after all.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed my sickeningly sweet Christmas story, and I wish you all a Merry Christmas!


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